


ready, set, splash!

by cha hugyeon (jeadore)



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15578148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeadore/pseuds/cha%20hugyeon
Summary: Protecting Cha Hakyeon should be a five-men job.(Or: Hongbin is a monk slash gamer genius slash demon slayer with the urgent need of a break)





	ready, set, splash!

**Author's Note:**

> Dear prompter: I'm pretty sure this isn't what you expected, but I had so much fun with this prompt, especially after watching nbin's battle trip! So I hope you like it!
> 
> also, i know the title sucks, but i couldn't decide. Still, enjoy!

Sanghyuk may be Satan himself because the pleasure barely hidden behind his smirk is huge. And that means no good.

“Hey, Hanzo boy,” he greets him as he sits right next to his keyboard, dangerously close to where Hongbin’s glass of water is. “I have news for you.”

Hongbin frowns and flinches when, on screen, his character is hit. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. Not at all,” Sanghyuk says, dead serious. That makes Hongbin turn to him immediately, body tense and alarmed gaze. He vaguely hears the sound of a sword cutting his character in half and the distorted low whining of Taehyung through his earphones. Then Sanghyuk smiles. “Or yes, I don’t know. I just wanted to see your face,” and he laughs.

Hongbin scoffs and threatens to throw his mouse at the demon.

“Get lost,” he hisses and prepares himself to start the game again. There it went his chance of levelling up.

Sanghyuk shrugs. It’s when Hongbin is about to shoot his opponent the last decisive arrow that the demon talks again. “Candle boy is going to Thailand next month,” he informs with the chirpy tone of someone who’s enjoying it way too much. If it’s the virtual mass murder that Hongbin is accomplishing or the news delivered, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t pry either—one should never mess with Sanghyuk. “To the Songkran festival.”

His arrow misses its target as Hongbin groans.

 

 

 

As a child born and raised in a temple, Hongbin learnt to perceive the dense air, the subtle scent of rottenness and sulphur, the quick flicker of colours in their eyes. At first it scared him, scared him so much that nights were restless and filled with sobs and _what if_ s. What if they got him, what if the possessed him, what if their clutches split his soul apart and damned him to an endless nightmare.

He was only four years old when he hid behind his grandmother’s long summer dress. “There’s evil in the bulgogi man, grandma,” he cried to the surprise of everybody in the food truck’s queue. It took a while to calm him down and take him back to the temple. That night he witnessed the way his grandmother washed red stains away from an old sword with holy water.

At seven, he was training in the art of fighting with another child monks and wielding small daggers in the solitude of his bare room.

Age eleven. “Will they ever leave? Is it possible for us to ever win?”

Age fifteen. He cleaned the blood and sulphur off his fingernails and swore in front of a Buddha statue and his grandmother’s corpse to protect people.

 

 

 

Then he was asked to protect some guy named Cha Hakyeon.

Worst best decision of his life.

 

 

 

The truth is patrolling all the time around the city is tiring. And as he was growing up, back in Seoul and living with his game-developer sister, he started playing demos and games that soon became more than a hobby for him. Hongbin isn’t just good, he is _amazing_. The focus, skill, patience, perseverance; he has it all. Also, he knows where to hit. It’s enjoyable, plus it gives him as many (or even more) adrenaline rushes as patrolling, minus the aching feet.

But lately, patrolling was taking all his time and every free hour was used to sleep. So, when he was entrusted to guard only one person, he said yes immediately. One person meant less area to watch, less energy loss, more free time. It’d be easier.

Oh, how mistaken he was.

 

 

 

Cha Hakyeon is a horrible person. Tanned skin and small face, naturally graceful and with a warm beautiful smile in his face at all times. He babysits his nephew every now and then and helps elderly people to cross the streets and carry their shopping bags.

He makes candles for a living and always smells of the most exquisite fragrances, sometimes citric and sometimes floral. He also talks and talks and _talks_ , a sweet honey-like voice that never gets annoying.

Hongbin’s mind came to a halt when he first saw him.

Hakyeon was too bright and pure and deserved to know nothing about evil.

 

 

 

Of course that was before he knew the man was a step away from being a social butterfly and a workaholic and a hobby collector. Hongbin ended up running after him from one spot to the next to the next, all over the city. From his friend’s studio in Sinsa-dong to a bar in Itaewon-dong to the ice park in the outskirts of Mapo-gu to even the city of Changwon because, apparently, Hakyeon is not only a family guy but also nostalgic for the parks where he used to play in when he was a kid.

He thought once or thousands times to make himself visible, but dismissed it. It’d make things awkward.

Especially after a few years of guarding him from the shadows.

 

 

 

Songkran means happiness and happiness means lots of demons and seriously, does Hakyeon really have to go there? “You can’t carry your sword or daggers in a plane,” Sanghyuk reminds him with a smug tone. “You’re doomed, Hanzo boy.”

Hongbin rolls his eyes. At least someone is happy, a bit too soon.

“I’ll had to settle for containing them just with holy water,” he answers and splashes some of it on Sanghyuk, who shrieks and tries to dodge it. A drop hits Sanghyuk’s cheek and it must burn like hell because the guy can’t stop hissing and cursing at him, especially when Hongbin chuckles victoriously. “You deserve it.”

The other guy’s lips form a fine white line, far from his usual lopsided smirks and cheeky smiles. “Fine, yeah.”

Sanghyuk is the only demon that helps them. He didn’t trust him at first, why would he? A demon is the direct consequence of bad choices; pure wrong doing something good won’t magically turn good, despite early Buddhist beliefs. But Sanghyuk chuckled something along the lines of _easier to rule them if they are weak_.

And truth be told: the job gets easier when a smart and powerful supernatural being uses his powers to hint him about the whereabouts of his protégé. Also, the guy is quite a good roommate, despite the Satan-like personality.

“You’ll pay for my plane ticket, though.” As if he doesn’t pay for almost everything already.

Well, he could use all the help he can get. Still, Hongbin groans.

 

 

 

So Sanghyuk tags along to Thailand, for all the wrong reasons. “I’ve always wanted to see Bangkok. I’ve heard that city is hell on earth.” They land in Chiang Mai though and Sanghyuk flees. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

And what is worse: Hakyeon doesn’t stop at Chiang Mai.

In what may be a spur of the moment (or Sanghyuk’s cheap revenge), Hakyeon decides to take the adventurous backpacker route and jumps into the first low-priced bus to northern Thailand. Three hours, 762 hills and uncountable sighs later, they arrive in the tiny town of Pai.

Hakyeon does what every tourist would do in a place filled with nature as Pai. He takes a bath in a natural hot spring, chills at a nice café with an amazing view of the bluish mountains and drinks passion fruit juice, takes a lot of unnecessary selfies and orders food in hidden family restaurants without even knowing a word of the language.

It’s kind of relaxing, in some sick sort of way. Hakyeon is humming under his breath as he enjoys his refreshing cup of iced Thai tea, while Hongbin is scaring a small bratty demon with a dessert fork previously dipped in holy water.

Truth be told, Pai has a lot less demons than he expected for a town lost in the middle of the mountains, packed with blissful passers-by.

Hakyeon mutters over the brim of his glass something along the lines of “Isn’t it good to be alone sometimes?” as he stirs in a comfy chair, bare feet playing with the grass underneath. It reminds Hongbin of lazy summer mornings in the temple, when his grandma was making breakfast and he was dismissing a century old manual in favor of the cool breeze.

 

 

 

Scratch that, it’s so damn tiring. Hakyeon decides to rent a scooter to move around the deserted streets of Pai and Hongbin has to milk his brain dry to find ways to follow him without being seen. He has bought three different caps and a shirt by now.

And when night falls, Hongbin dreads to find out Hakyeon’s choosing of lodging. A small room made of wood, pretty and cheap, and built at the very top of a huge tree. So Hongbin has to resort to sleep at the foot of a bush. Or to not-sleep. After all, the dark is an invitation for darker things and the scent of sulphur and rottenness grows heavy.

 

 

 

After the fourth demon in an hour, Hongbin sighs. For others it might be a _healing trip_ , but for him it is damn exhausting.

He deserves a break.

 

 

 

Here’s the thing: Hakyeon is warm and bright. So warm and so bright, like the damn sun. Some of his friends complain to him about his demeanor, but they come back to bask in his warmth nevertheless. Most people get attracted to him by his big smile and bright laugh, and then get charmed by his powerful immensity even if it’s all packed in a thin leggy body. Hakyeon is the sun. He’s the human representation of the sun and, just like the sun, at some point he also attracts wishes of milling him to dust, turning him off, tainting him. Extinguish all his good energy.

So he has to be protected. It’s Hongbin’s job.

But, at some point, Hongbin starts to wonder if he’d able to afford to lose Hakyeon at all.

 

 

 

Perhaps that point comes the next day, during the afternoon, between the clean reddish skies and the obscure bottomless sea of trees. Mixed with and hidden between hundreds of other tourists, Hongbin observes as Hakyeon hikes up the mountain, expression torn between calm, fatigue and resolve.

Kong Lan is a hot spot for tourists, an essential place to go to to witness a marvellous sunset. A red ball of fire hiding behind bluish mountains and dense green, stark colors mashing up together in a majestic view. It’s breath-taking.

Most people climb to the edge of a cliff, just for a picture. And while he gets that the sight is mesmerizing, he wouldn’t do it for anything in the world. He’s glad that Hakyeon is kind of a scaredy-cat too.

Except that the man is lining up in the short queue. And actually climbing the rocks and taking stupid (nice) selfies at the edge of the cliff, with a never-ending sea of nature as background.

On his way back, Hakyeon trips on a loose rock. Without thinking, Hongbin runs like his life depends on it. For an instant, he realizes that if he doesn’t reach Hakyeon, doesn’t stop him, he will get his rightful break. It’s awful and nothing tastes bitterer than that. He wishes he could be as fast as his characters in the games, or to have a pause button or something. Stupid, he knows, because he has already wished things like that many times before when fighting against powerful demons.

But this is not a demon. This is karma and karma could be the worst enemy of all.

A low groan escapes past his lips as he tries to grab Hakyeon. By the hand, the arm, anything. His fingers close around fabric and he immediately yanks it. A bony shoulder hits against his chest and it hurts, but Hongbin can’t really complain. Not when he realizes that he did it, that Hakyeon is safe and in his arms.

Hakyeon is safe.

Hakyeon is safe and in his arms, and _damn_ , in his arms.

The man blinks, a bit surprised or confused. “Uhm, thanks,” he mutters, staring right at him. Hongbin nods before stepping back and disappearing amidst the little crowd. He’s about to have a mini nervous breakdown. He has made himself visible. Hakyeon has seen him and he has made himself visible and acted all weird, and oh, _fuck._

Worst thing is Hakyeon has stared right at him, brown warm eyes against a background of red, green and bluish. He’s breath-taking.

 

 

 

His sister started developing a new RTS game when he was nineteen, a bloody war set in a parallel universe with lots of Greek sanctuaries and mountains. She explained to him not so meticulously the plot and all the commands. Here you kill the monster and there you buy magic potions, you have your own weapons or you can steal your opponent’s. Here you can rest and socialize.

When he asked about the pause button, she shrugged. “It’d be like a bug.” An error in the game, a flaw of the system. “You don’t have one in real life. The missions never end.”

 

 

 

He’s holed up in a tiny cheap café, drinking lemonade and using their WiFi to play in his phone when a notification pops-up on his screen. Sanghyuk has sent him a _Dude, you’re glitched_ through Kakao and Hongbin groans because that means the demon has activated the roaming and he’s pretty sure he’ll be the one paying for it in the end.

 _Where are you??_ , he sends back.

 _Not in Pai,_ Sanghyuk answers immediately. _Same as your candle boy._

Hongbin groans again.

 

 

 

The city of Chiang Mai welcomes him back with the festivities of the Songkran already in full swing. A few kids splash him with water and an innocent-looking girl smiles at him before throwing the whole content of a big bucket at his chest. Hongbin can’t help but laugh, drenched in pure wishes of good luck and bracing wholesomeness.

As he goes farther into the city, making his way in a red shared taxi with a few of other foreigners to Main Street, he watches as the crowd and the cheers grow bigger into a huge revelry. The city is dressed in vibrant colors, big flowers and parades of beautiful women dancing to bright tunes and to the cheers of the crowd. There’s a giant golden statue of Buddha and a lot of smaller ones that people pour water to, and lots of monks walking around or even riding on top of big majestic elephants. Hongbin stares marvelled, wondering why he didn’t grow up here.

The Main Street is already closed to traffic and turned into the arena of a massive war. Fighters uniformed with big smiles and all kinds of water guns fill the streets to the brim, so to find just one person is damn difficult. Especially if he doesn’t know how big this place is or where he’s standing. If it were a game, he could try to look at the map. If Sanghyuk were here, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.

(If Hongbin weren’t an awkward kid in front of his protégé, he wouldn’t be for sure in this predicament.)

Even if people throw water around with the best wishes of good luck, washing away their sins and purifying others, the dense smell of sulphur and rottenness prickles his nose. Hongbin then chooses to buy a water gun with a big backpack tank and recites an old blessing prayer he has learnt by heart in an adjacent hidden street.

All his blades may be all the way back in Korea and it may be quite a hassle to kill demons in the middle of a festival with thousands of people in sight. But he is so ready to stop them now.

Finding Hakyeon is a lot easier than he thought. No Sanghyuk needed when the guy in question has turned himself into the instant main target of almost every person in the street. His laugh chimes bright and clear as he goes around starting innocent water fights and gets soaked back. Dressed in a purple floral shirt and armed with some sort of water bazooka, Hakyeon acts childish and runs around shooting big spurts of water.

Hongbin tries to stick near, but the man is full of energy and fighting spirit. Hakyeon attacks half of Chiang Mai without biasing between people on the streets, on the cars or the looming demons.

And soon he disappears in the middle of the cheerful battlefield.

 

 

 

Hongbin thinks he’s going to have a stroke.

Protecting Cha Hakyeon should be a five-men job.

 

 

 

He can smell the potent sulphur near, surrounding him, so he must not be far. There’s so much happiness around, so many rotten apples scurrying in between, sliding their clutches through the clueless naïve crowd that all of Hongbin’s mental alarms go off. His instincts kick in and, maybe, some desperation too.

Face, neck, hands, feet. He aims his holy water at every naked surface possible, hitting the demons with all the force of his inner prayers. They hiss and step back as much as they can, surprise and rage bleeding into their flickering black irises.

Hongbin clenches his fists. He’s been in a fight with more than one demon before. More than five even. Never with dozens of them and only equipped with holy water.

He shoots and shoots, making a bit of commotion in the middle of the street with all the hassle and downcast expressions. The weight in his back is lesser now and Hongbin fears that his tank is reaching its end. He bites his lip. Not a really good time to be barehanded.

A loud battle cry in a well-known honey-like voice booms from behind him and then a big spurt of water comes in sight. When he turns around, Hakyeon is standing there, his huge bazooka aiming at someone at Hongbin’s back.

“Seems like you need my help,” Hakyeon says in a smug tone. Then he splashes water at that someone — ironically, a demon.

 _No_ , Hongbin refuses  to accept it. What he needs is more holy water and for Hakyeon to be safe. Maybe back in Korea, in his nice small candle shop. Being the workaholic he usually is and never leaving the damn place.

But judging by his beautiful perky face, that would be another way of covering the sun, smothering it slowly.

“I saw you before,” Hongbin answers, finally. He never imagined that those were going to be his first words to his protégé. “You’re like a water attractor. Seems more like you’ll need _my_ help.”

Hakyeon gasps, fake hurt written in his face. It’s washed away quickly when a blonde girl splashes him right in the mouth.

“Watch my back!” Hakyeon orders him instead. He starts shooting water mercilessly, doing poses like a fake pro.

Hongbin can’t help but laugh. Dude would be the first one taken down in a real battle. “I don’t have a lot more water.”

The other man purses his lips and nods, dead serious. “Okay, okay. Remember their faces!”

Things are quite worse for him: Hongbin won’t be able to forget their furious eyes and putrid scent. He never does.

The heated atmosphere flares up even more when wet warm fingers slip through his and a firm hand holds his. Hakyeon is holding his hand. Thin fingers, longer than Hongbin’s, closing around his palm and burning more than holy water.

Hakyeon guides him out of the battlefield to the nearest stand so they can refill their water tanks. They get involved in another futile water war with some cute small children where both end up drenched and smiling. Hakyeon hugs his shoulders and it burns, burns, _burns_. Not even a big amount of freezing iced water could subdue it.

“I saw _you_ before. Seems like we have to talk.”

 

 

 

Sticky mango rice is cheap and the perfect sweet snack to recharge energy and have a small talk break, according to the man that firmly leads the way to a stand in the old part of the town and talks about the way the city is organized and how its rich history is plastered in impressive buildings. Looks like he did his research. Hongbin follows behind, resigned to not leave Hakyeon alone. At least he really likes mango.

“I saw you before,” Hakyeon repeats before taking a spoonful of stick rice. He lowly hums in pleasure.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, don’t try to bullshit me,” he replies, dead serious. Hongbin tries in vain to hold back his flinch. He’s seen Hakyeon before, has watched him for hours and hours. For all his bright demeanor, he snorts a lot and gets angry quite fast, always with good reason. Hongbin is never been on the receiving end, never thought he’d look this scary. “I did see you. At the Canyon.” Hongbin drops his denial act. It’s useless when they’ve been talking in Korean for the last half an hour in the midst of natives and some European tourists. “I really want to thank you for that.”

“It was nothing,” Hongbin says with a lump in his throat.

The other man stares at him for a few seconds before stabbing with the little plastic spoon another piece of mango. It splits into two perfect halves stained with the condensed milk and the rice.

“At first I thought I should really worry,” Hakyeon starts with a pointedly raised eyebrow. He mixes everything in his plate until it’s hard to decipher what was white, what was pure orange, what is conversational, what is anger. “A dude was following me around Seoul, staying always near my shop but almost never came in. I was so creeped out. I was about to call the police a few times,” he continues, his voice a weird mix of a friendly and icy tone. Even with the hot air of Chiang Mai scurrying through the streets as a lame excuse of a breeze, Hongbin trembles. “Then he followed me all the way to Thailand. _Creep_.“

The last word is spat out, harsh and ruthless. Also quite fair. Just like his grandma’s old sword.

Hongbin can’t help but shrinking into the small plastic chair. Even if he tries hard not to avert his eyes, years of training and looking right at flickering black pupils can’t compare with Hakyeon’s stare. “I didn’t—“

“Of course you did,” Hakyeon interrupts him, withering look and lips pressed into a thin line. He points at him with the plastic tea spoon, as menacing as any dagger. “I said don’t try to bullshit me. A handsome striking face like yours is not that easy to forget. Now, would you be nice enough to tell me why?”

Hongbin bites the inside of his cheek.

Maybe he could take his chance, now that Hakyeon still seems kind of contained and determined to know his reasons. Now that Hakyeon is getting further and further away from his usual brightness and gentleness— Maybe he could— Maybe they could talk and he could explain this mess out. Maybe.

 _Maybe_ if he could just say something, not just breathe. Something, anything. Any bullshit, like he’s a government spy or whatever. Say something, stop breathing, stop just breathing.

No, _breathe_.

This is why he never introduced himself in all those years.

“I have to leave.”

“No, you don’t. Tell me.” Hakyeon stares at him intensely, up and down his face. Time seems to dilate between his stern snort and his next words. “I’m not mad. You’re supposed to not get mad during Songkran,” he says, tone still angry but a little more subdued. Hongbin makes a face; it’s a little bit late for that. “Okay, okay, I won’t get _that_ mad if you have a good explanation. Tell me.”

 

 

 

Hongbin never thought he’d ever explain his job to someone, much less to the man he had take to care of.

It shouldn’t be right nor easy, yet it feels like it when Hakyeon listen earnestly.

 

 

 

“Aren’t you Buddhist?” Hakyeon interrupts him for the first time in what felt like hours but maybe were just minutes. He’s eyeing something in Hongbin’s collarbones, slightly curious. For a second, Hongbin is embarrassed for forgetting the old necklace he took from his grandmother’s belongings. A small wheel of Dharma, metal rusty and meaningful. “Sorry if I’m being an ignorant here, but don’t you believe in other things instead of demons? Self-reflection or karma, or something along those lines?”

Hongbin scratches his jaw and giggles awkwardly. “Yeah, we do. How can I simplify it for you…?” he murmurs and ponders for a seconds under the unnervingly mild gaze of Hakyeon. “Demons are a projection of our bad habits and bad actions. But, for a few centuries, the bad decisions and bad actions have been so many, so powerful, that their energy merges together and shapes itself into something similar to what the Christians believe. Evil is now tangible, it lurks around expecting us to do the wrong things, encouraging us to do them. So it can grow and grow and soon enough take control. Sometimes--sometimes they take possession. And they do it of good people.”

“Why?”

“To break them. Completely,” he stutters.

Hakyeon is looking at him like if he’s two seconds away from reproaching him something. It was a bit expected, who in his sane mind would just accept everything with such an atrocious explanation? Seriously, grandma would have been so disappointed in Hongbin and she would have nagged him about paying more attention to his manuals and lessons.

He has heard Hakyeon nagging his friends more than once before, in an annoying but rich worried tone; Hongbin kind of wishes this time were the case too, instead of the dull silence they are slowly drowning in.

“You think I’m crazy,” he says, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“A bit nuts, yeah,” Hakyeon admits. Straightforward, almost unsettling. It’s a bit funny and a lot worrisome how just a look from this man unbalanced Hongbin’s world and a few words are dismantling it. Hongbin’s face might be making it obvious or maybe Hakyeon can sense it because he softens his expression, as well as his tone. “But it’s your belief and I respect it.”

There’s an unexpected warmth filling Hongbin’s chest as a smile blooms on his face. That’s what charms him the most about Hakyeon and, maybe, all that he needs for now. Blunt honesty and some extent of tolerance.

So he doesn’t anticipate the next question at all. “Will you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

Confused, Hongbin blinks a few times and Hakyeon chuckles under his breath. “To see them. Feel them. Sense them, whatever.”

 _Oh._ “You don’t really want to sense them.”

He could never willingly let him feel the pressure in his chest nor see the deep dark abysses in the black eyes. He would never let him get choked in such absolute despair.

Hakyeon clicks his tongue. “Oh, believe me. If something wants to eat me alive, I will for sure want to see them and kick their asses.”

 

 

 

The first time Hongbin played a game his sister developed, he actually lost. And the second time, and the third time and the ninth time. With furrowed brows, he admitted his losing streak to her. And she smirked. “That’s the point. You’ll never win, I designed it that way. When you think you’re winning, you’ll lose. And when you think you’re losing, well, you’ll definitely lose.”

Hongbin’s frown deepened. It was a strategy game against a superior being, maybe aliens, he can’t recall. But he played and played during a whole week until he found a bug. And he won.

 

 

 

“So is this your job? Killing demons?” Hakyeon questions as they go back to the Main Street, water guns filled to the brim. Hakyeon wants to keep enjoying the festival, maybe get revenge from a bunch of people that splashed him in the face earlier. Hongbin complies, only on the condition that they’d stick close. And he also asks Hakyeon to let him bless his water, just in case. “And you get paid for it?”

Hongbin scrunches his nose. “Not at all. I’m a freelance game tester. I mainly work for my sister’s company though.”

Hakyeon stares at him, something akin to surprise hidden behind his unimpressed expression. “Can’t believe it. Demon slayer would sound better in your CV,” he scoffs.

Even if Hongbin tries his best to give him the stink eye, he ends up laughing. That attracts attention from the other people and soon they are drenched as a group of girls runs away. Hakyeon grits his teeth and complains that it’s all Hongbin’s fault for being loud. As if Hakyeon himself wasn’t the one screaming and shooting at every living soul before. But when he tells him this, he gets shot in the mouth with salty holy water.

Perhaps they’re too engrossed in their little good-natured banter that Hongbin almost misses out the strange change in the air, the putrid scent. A clutch reaches from somewhere in the crowd and grabs Hakyeon’s arm, who barely hisses. The happiness in his expression starts to drain out as he breathes in the toxic smell.

It takes a fraction of a second for Hongbin’s instincts to kick in. Aiming at the finger circling around Hakyeon’s biceps, the only visible part of the demon, he shoots. A loud cry is heard as the grip loses its strength and Hakyeon gasps inaudibly into the crowd’s loud cheers. Then he releases all the air he has in his lungs in a few violent heaves.

Hongbin bites his lips. He knows what Hakyeon must be feeling: the disorientation, the dense cold, the urgent need of shrinking into nonexistence. In a quick motion, he slides in front of Hakyeon and pulls the trigger. The small demon grunts and wheezes like a child with a deep cavern-like voice, and that seems to snap a reaction out of his protégé.

Without prior consideration, Hakyeon discharges all the holy water in his gun at every being nearby. His hands tremble and Hongbin has to hold them and move the fingers away from the trigger. Then he drags Hakyeon to a calmer adjacent street.

A few minutes pass before Hakyeon finally speaks again.

“Demon slayer sounds way, way better.”

 

 

 

Hakyeon kisses him that night, while they are drinking beer in a small bar by the River Ping riverside. Not on the mouth, neither on his cheek. He kisses him on the corner of his lips, near his dimple. And Hongbin’s whole system halts.

“Thank you,” he says, warm breath against his skin. “For taking care of me. For caring about me.”

A flush creeps up his neck as he replies in the most nonchalant way he can muster. “That’s… literally my job.”

The other man’s expression doesn’t falter. Instead, Hakyeon pouts. “No, that’s not— You know what, give me back my kiss.”

Hongbin shrugs. “You’re not my leader, can’t tell what to do.”

“Give. It. Back.”

They move fast. Almost like running but without leaving their spot. Hakyeon threatens and Hongbin steps back, hit by the stele of something exquisite. Not citrus nor floral; up-close Hakyeon’s skin smells of French vanilla, rich and enthralling.

But he tastes of golden peaches and clean skies.

 

 

 

Hakyeon stares at Sanghyuk’s awkward smile. “He’s the demon I talked about earlier,” Hongbin says. Hakyeon nods and mumbles something along the lines of “the good one” that makes Sanghyuk scoff. He doubles his laughter when he notices the comfortable tanned hand on top of Hongbin’s shoulder.

“Please, this is a very intricate plan to get my revenge.”

“What? Why?” Hakyeon asks, confused. Hongbin wishes he hadn’t done it.

“They should’ve never abandoned me at that gas station,” he comments and Hakyeon’s eyes open wide, as if he were wondering who could be that evil to have left him or as if he were questioning Sanghyuk’s sanity. Hongbin shakes his head— _don’t ask_.

Sanghyuk’s smile only grows bigger as he stares at Hakyeon, impassible.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods and to my beta for their pantience, and to you dear reader!


End file.
